


And They All Could Have Stopped Him

by Vrunka



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Bondage, Incubus Joseph, M/M, cult daddy Joe, dub con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 20:44:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrunka/pseuds/Vrunka
Summary: But no one did. And now Joseph isn't Joseph anymore. He's something else, God help them all.





	And They All Could Have Stopped Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cuminmyass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuminmyass/gifts).



> Commission for McCree so much love for letting me run with this idea dude! Its definitely in my wheelhouse...

The worst part of it, the part that haunts him, is that he wasn't against it. He didn't try to talk Joseph out of it.

Not once.

Not once.

He had even helped, a little. Joseph had never been good at the signs, at using the knife to carve them deep into the wood of the alter. And Robert was.

So he'd helped.

He had the damn tattoo, he'd drank the fucking kool aid, there didn't seem to be much point in arguing. And so he hadn't. Not once.

He'd stood with others while Joseph had read off the book. Joseph's skin in the candlelight, soft and pink. His cock. The knife.

Mary, next Robert, holding her throat, the only person in the room not stone-faced.

Joseph's voice lilting over the Latin, some Hebrew, a smattering of something Robert didn't recognize then.

He knows now, of course, that it was Greek.

The incubus, wearing Joseph's skin, looks up. His eyes are blue, the same eyes Joseph has always had, only worse now. Colder. Older. Infinite.

No one stopped him.

They hadn't stopped this.

And that will stay with Robert forever.

"You feeling okay," Joseph asks. Stretched out in his backyard with sun dancing over his bare chest. Arms crossed behind his head. And those eyes, those eyes, those eyes.

It's too chilly to be shirtless.

Autumn colors, autumn breezes.

But Joseph hasn't been the same since...

Since they didn't stop him.

Robert swallows, shrugs. "'M fine." The lie tastes stale. He crosses the backyard to sit in the lawn chair opposite Joe. The thing that wears Joe.

The thing that crawled into his skin and owns him now. Devoured him, maybe. If they're lucky. If Joseph is.

The wind stirs and Robert shivers. Tucks his hands into the ratty old hoodie he's wearing. His fingers itch for a cigarette, but Joseph always chastises him for smoking them.

"Cold?"

"A little."

"Want me to warm you up?"

Robert looks down, scuffs his feet in the grass. He should be fighting harder. He should have fought to begin with. He should have stopped him. Someone should have.

"Mary is inside," Robert says. A meager defense. Flimsy.

Joseph rolls his head. Something in his neck pops. His eyes flutter shut, a sigh of pleasure from between his lips.

Robert has always wanted him. Wanted him; deep in his gut, in the core of him, lust, fucking filthy and depraved. And now, he has him, in a way. Has him in a way he couldn't before.

Joseph makes another small sound. He stretches again, active, biceps shaking as he raises them above his head, toes spread against the bar at the bottom of the chair. His sloping stomach. The low ride of his khakis.

Robert has always wanted him.

And now the demon wants Robert in the way Joseph never did.

"You're telling me you don't know how to talk my wife out of the house," Joseph says. His eyes open, flickering across Robert's face. "Or that you'd care if she watched."

No. Robert doesn't want her to watch. Can't...

Can't deal with it.

Joseph's big hand drops to massage the front of his slacks. Lazy. Hand rolling in a wave. Breathing through his nose.

Pornographic.

It should look so wrong coming from him. The youth pastor, the all American good dad. Aryan and perfect and clean.

Jerking himself off in his pants in the middle of the day.

"Okay," Robert snaps, looking away. Tearing his eyes to the sliding glass doors instead. "Fine," he says. "Just not out here okay?"

Joseph smiles, slow curling. Satisfied. "Good boy, Rob," he says. 

Robert pretends he isn't shaking when he walks back into the house.

\--

The rope thing, Robert has a feeling, was maybe something Joseph was into before they didn't stop him. Knots in the nylon, precise and tight.

Robert grunts. His fingers move together. Vulnerable, exposed. His chest, his ribs, his stomach, on display with the way the rope keeps his arms extended over his head. When he pulls too hard, the headboard thumps against the wall. Dents in the plaster.

It's gonna effect the resale value.

"Trying to get away from me," Joseph says. His knees are on either side of Robert's hips. Hands splayed over Robert's chest. He seems fascinated with the hair there, every time, running his fingers through it. Raking his nails across the mat of it. "Are you scared of me?"

"Yes." Because sometimes its better not to lie. Pride was the first sin, Robert remembers that much.

Joseph grins, his eyes flash. He rubs himself across Robert's torso. Sinuous and flexing like a snake. His teeth at Robert's throat; it wouldn't take much a jerk of his head and Robert would bleed out. He swallows, half hoping this time that Joseph will do it, but of course, Joseph does not.

Fingers against his sternum, pressing against the scar, the raised and puckered skin. White and stark. Matches Joseph's skin tone; a line of him grafted into Robert's flesh.

Something absolutely dangerous in the thought. Bordering sacrilege of some sort. The thing above him--the thing that is grinding against his cock, teasing it between his ass cheeks--is older than Christianity itself. A holdover from Mesopotamia. From the Ancient Greeks.

Robert's done his reading.

Robert's done a lot of things.

And a lot of them are shameful. This part maybe the most of all.

"Please," he says. "Joseph."

Joe grins, his head rolls on his neck. Sweaty bangs hanging across his brow in ringlets.

"You want to fuck me," Joseph asks. God would that he have asked it before, maybe then Robert would have stopped him. Tried to stop him.

"Yes."

Joseph bites his lip. The thing in Joseph bites his lip. So hard the pink goes white. Joseph's cock smears across Robert's belly. Cum leaking into the tangled mess of hair. Always more than there should be. A mess of it. The thing in Joseph can go for hours, has gone for hours, until Robert's hands are numb and his shoulders scream. Until his ass is raw from friction even with the liberal application of lube.

Incubi are funny that way. Sickening stamina. Jeff Goldblum in The Fly.

Joseph bites him, right above the heart, digs his teeth in. Robert hisses, bucks. His cock aches, blunt pressure from being clutched at the base.

"Are you listening to me?" Joseph asks.

"Yeah," Robert says and Joseph grins around his skin.

"Liar."

Robert doesn't argue. He shakes as Joe sits up. Reaching back to guide Robert's cock into him.

Seamless slick slide.

It shouldn't be.

There should be resistance.

Robert's stomach clenches as he sinks home. Top of his thighs meeting Joseph's plump ass. And Joseph cooing, grinding down on him. The pace is glacial. Excruciating.

Robert grits his teeth and twists his hands, unable to do anything more. Helpless.

"Want me to go faster?"

"Yes. God, yes."

Joseph grins. "God?" he says. "Fitting." And then he's bouncing, bracing his hands, fingers in the hair, across Robert's pecs and tipping his body forward to drag his hips up and down.

Heat and tightness and overwhelming friction.

Robert cries out.

Tosses his head.

Nowhere to go. Exposed. Exposed.

Joseph is nibbling at his pulse, barely breaking a sweat as he fucks Robert's cock inside of himself over and over. Joseph's lips gliding over his chin. Sealing against his own.

The kiss is like a possession itself. Dominating. All tongue and saliva. Sloppy. Gross. But Robert doesn't fight it, he opens his mouth to it.

Part of him loves it.

A dark, shifting little part. Traitorous and sharp.

Joseph arches through his first orgasm, whining against Robert's mouth. His voice humming down Robert's throat, vibrating in his vocal chords.

Using him.

He'll dispose of him once Robert has reached the peak of his usefulness. There is hardly a question there about that. Robert's hands flex in their bonds.

Joseph pants against his lips.

"Didn't come yet?" he says, grinning. Nosing under Robert's eye.

"No," Robert says. Usefulness.

Joseph shifts his hips, a teasing little circle. "Alright," he says. "Good boy," he says.

And horribly, all-consumingly, Robert is thrilled.

Usefulness.

Sickening.

**Author's Note:**

> As always come see my Tumblr for info and more daddy stuff!
> 
> @vrunkawrites


End file.
